


So We Beat On

by writethisway



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, I can't even begin to explain why this is so long, PG/PG-13 version of the sexytimes, Partial Nudity, death of an infant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-11-02 10:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20716802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writethisway/pseuds/writethisway
Summary: “So you want me to join?”They nod, and a gruff man, a Colonel Phillips, says. “Yes Private. You would be a switchboard operator and a cover agent. You would know what’s going on, but not what’s actually going on.”OrRose finds her place in the world, even if it takes her a bit.





	So We Beat On

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! I just wanted to drop in and say that this is a pretty heavy fic, and it deals with a lot of sensitive subjects, including the death of an infant, MCD, PG-PG-13 smut, and partial nudity. 
> 
> Please take care of yourself and do not read this fic if any of this freaks you out.

**WAC Barracks, Washington DC **

**June, 1944**

Rose sighs, rubbing her hands together. Today was the day then. This was the day she would open her husband’s personal items that were sent from her. 

She sits down at her bunk before cracking her knuckles, her one bad habit, and working on opening the box. She sighs as she takes out the envelopes. One from his CO, she guessed. And one from. Him. She takes a deep breath before taking out a few more things. A new necklace, a nice pen. And- 

  
“Oh, Patrick” she murmurs, taking out the book.   
  
A faded and worn version of “The Great Gatsby” was in the bottom, obviously well read and well loved, and she takes it out, holding it close to her, before starting to read it, taking her back to when they first met. 

**July, 1925 **

**Cincinnati, Ohio **

Rose hummed reading her new book, in the hallway of the orphanage, while her mom was volunteering, before hearing the people coming up the stairs, laughing and horsing around. She sighed, picking up her skirt, seeing a new kid coming up the stairs and smiling at her. 

“Hello!” He smiled.   
  
“Hi,” she nodded, taking in his lanky frame and red spiky hair. 

“My name’s Patrick Hutchinson, and you?”   
  
“Rose, Rose Roberts.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, and oh does that toothy grin set her 13 year-old heart beating wildly. 

She blushed and smiled, before shaking his hand. 

“Can I sit? What are you reading?” 

“Just a new book,” she shrugged. “I like to read, so.” 

He sat down and that’s how she met Patrick. 

Patrick was something else, entirely. He was kind and patient, and was from the wrong side of Cincinnati, like her. He lost his parents to a fire, and she lost her dad to a car accident, but he was brave and lovely. They spent almost everyday together, not caring about the fact that he was 3 years her senior. 

She found that out when she brought him a few little candies for his birthday, and it said 16 on the cake, but who could blame her for forgetting to ask him. 

And he found out she was 13 when her mom said it’s time to go to Girl Scouts, and she murmured that she was 13, and in middle school, but that she was still fine with him hanging out with her. 

When she was 15, he left for college, but she promised him she’d write. Besides, he was the closest friend she’d ever had. 

So, he went off to flight school, and she worked on getting her switchboard operator training, and soon, he was graduating, and she was there for him.   
  
She was 17 then, and still liked Patrick as much as she did when he first met him, 4 years ago. She gave him the flowers she had brought for him, and took his picture, but fate had other plans. 

“Hey Rose?” He said, deliriously happy. 

“Yes Patrick?” She smiled, looking at him. 

“Can I take you out? Like on a date?” 

She nodded, taking his hand. “Yes. This weekend?”   
  
He grinned. “Saturday night at 7?”   
  
“At Washington Platform?”   
  
“Yeah, that sounds good Rose.” 

So on Saturday, she got her best dress out, grabbed her purse from the hook on her bed, and walked her way downtown for a night out, when she saw Patrick there with a white rose for her. She took it, takes his hand and went and had fun for a little while. She loved it, she had fun that night. 

And so when he asked her to go see a movie with him, two weeks later, she didn’t say no. 

And the next week, when he asked if she wanted to go to the Ohio River and have a picnic there, she said yes. 

The week after, she got a job at the telephone company. He took her out for a nice dinner, and insisted on buying her a new dress for her first day of work. The face her mom made when she told her about how she got the dress is something bordering on surprise, fear and wistfulness, but Rose doesn’t question it as she looked at the dress and how nice she looks at it. 

She started and wrote letters to him, telling him about her new job, and all about her co-workers and boss. She was one of the younger girls, but she loved it because sometimes the older ones would make her meals to take home. And he’s sometimes there to pick her up and walk her home. One of the times he walks her home, she asks him. “Do you like me the way I like you?”   
  
“Which way is that?”   
  
She blushed, “I like you more than a friend.”   
  
He smiled and kissed her right then, the Cincinnati rain falling steadily on them. 

Over the next few months, Rose had never felt lighter. She had a job, a boyfriend that’s sweet and patient with her, a whole new life, steps away from where she started in the slums of Cincinnati. He treated her well, walking her home before going to his little apartment overlooking the Ohio River. He let her pick out some candies she likes and bought them for her if he has enough money. Or very rarely, they would have enough money for tickets and one popcorn at the movie theater.

So, when he proposed in early 1933, on the banks of the Ohio River, she enthusiastically said yes and kissed him on the spot, holding him close as the banks of the Ohio seemed to clap for them. 

She had to ask him a few questions first, so when they were off the high of being engaged, and were settling down, she asked him.   
  
“Patrick?”   
  
“Hmm?” He said, looking up from his book. 

“Do you mind if I work while we’re married? It’s just that you’re gone a lot and I’ll get cabin fever.”   
  
He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind, or you could join some clubs or something. I make enough money from piloting that you wouldn’t have to work, if you didn’t want to.”   
  
She shrugged. “I like it there. It’s fun and the girls are nice.”   
  
He nods. “Just putting it into your mind, but I”m fine if you still work.” 

She nods. “I’ll think about it.” 

The next week, she had decided and sat next to Patrick. “I think I’m going to continue working if that’s alright. I know you’re going to say no, but I decided to because I want to be able to help provide for us.” 

  
He nodded. “That’s okay. I understand. Now, who do you want to invite to the wedding?”   
  
She laughed and nodded, before she started to work on the guest list. 

They sent out all of the invitations, booked the venue, just a little chapel in a somewhat nice part of town. She shopped for a wedding dress and found a beautiful one, with a train and long lace sleeves, just in time for the wedding. They kept having to put it off because they didn’t have enough money, but finally, in November of 1934, she was finally able to call herself Rose Sarah Hutchinson. 

She walked herself down the aisle, being careful not to step on her dress, before looking up and seeing Patrick beaming and grinning ear to ear. 

She got up there, and Patrick lifted her veil up and kissed her forehead, before whispering, “You look beautiful.” 

The ceremony went much too quick, but soon enough, she said her vows, smiling as she did. 

“You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require, and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand,” She said, smiling as she looked into his eyes. 

He repeated what she said, and he got the rings out, before grinning at her, handing her his ring. She nodded and takes it, before having the priest bless the rings, and her slipping his ring on. And him taking her ring and slipping it on.   
  
“Perfect fit,” he whispered. 

She giggled and nodded, as the priest said the magic words, “You may now exchange a kiss,” and Patrick swept her up into a kiss, holding her close. 

She smiled as she kissed her husband on the lips, as their friends clapped and her mom cried softly for her. Rose was excited for this new step, and well, her mom taught her well enough about the art of keeping a house and home that she was going to be fine for her flyboy husband. 

The reception was just a quiet thing at her mom’s house, with her best friends from work, and Patrick’s flight buddies. They danced to “Night and Day” by Eddie Duchin and cut the cake, and Rose swore it was the best night of her life. 

So when they got to their new, little apartment, with their hand-me-down furnishings, and Patrick carried her over the threshold, she was quite nervous. Sure, her mom taught her how to make a great pie, and how to deep clean a house, but she didn’t teach her how to have sex, or how to initiate it. 

She was glad when Patrick awkwardly asked her whether or not she wanted to, you know, consummate the marriage, and he blushed when she blushed and nodded softly. He then stated that he had no idea what he was doing, and she smiled, kissed him, and lead him to the bedroom before she said she hadn’t done this either. She saw the relief wash over his face before he kissed her. 

He smiled as he started to take off her veil, Rose getting the bobby pins out of her hair, so her hair flowed down to the middle of her back. She helped him undo the buttons of his shirt before she kissed him, feeling the muscles in his back. He started undoing the buttons on her dress, and she gets nervous as she gets out of it and stands in front of him. 

She had gained some weight since he last saw her, but her mom said that was normal, and guys liked it when the girls weren’t as thin as a twig. She went to the doctor, and her doctor said she was healthy, so she thinks she’s fine. But that’s all for Patrick to decide. 

So when Patrick kisses her hard and murmured “You’re so beautiful, wife,” in her ear, she couldn’t help but smile, relief crashed over her in waves. 

“And you’re so handsome, husband,” she said, kissing him softly on the lips. 

They ended up stumbling to the bed, hands groping to touch wherever they could. Rose slid a hand up his back, gripping his now somewhat messy hair, keeping her other hand on his waist. She felt his hands starting to wrap around her waist and she smiled, kissing him as he laid her down on the bed.   
  
“Just so we’re clear, you still want to do this?” Patrick said, panting in her ear. 

She nodded, “Yes.”   
  
After they finished consummating the marriage, Rose smiled and breathed softly, kissing his cheek as his hand crept towards her waist.

He smiled and kissed her, before murmuring, “Rose Hutchinson, my wife.”   
  
She chuckled, nodding. “I’m yours Patrick, always and forever.” 

He grinned and kissed her again. “Do you want to move away?” he tentatively said. 

  
“Where to though?” She looked at him. 

He shrugged. “Nicer part of Cincinnati, maybe to Chicago.” 

She sighed. “I don’t know. I would have to think about it. I don’t even know if we have enough money.” 

He nodded. “Off topic, I know we used protection this time, but do you want kids?” 

She stopped for a second before thinking a little and nodding. “Yeah, one, maybe two kids? What about you?”   
  
He nodded. “Yeah one, maybe two.” 

She took it into account as she falls asleep. 

It’s July of 1936 when she discovered that she’s pregnant. She had been throwing up in the women’s room for a week straight, and she got herself to a doctor on a Wednesday after work, thank God. She took a test, and the doctor smiled and said, “Congratulations Mrs. Hutchinson,” and that was that. 

So she went home for the day, incredibly excited to tell her husband that she’s pregnant, before she stopped and looked into the window of a shop and smoothed her dress out, trying to see if she could see a bit of a bump in the window, but not yet. She went into the baby shop, just to look around for things, and bought a little teddy bear and a card for Patrick. 

  
When Patrick came home that night, she set the bag in front of him and grinned as he opened the card and starts crying. “I’m going to be a dad?”   
  
Rose nodded, slowly tearing up. “Yeah. You’re going to be a dad.” 

  
The next few months were quite a blur, with him flying, and her being a switchboard girl, hiding her modest sized bump when she was at work. Eventually, people found out, and well, she was deemed for maternity leave, with a job offer for whenever she could come back. 

She was about 7 to 8 months pregnant now. Patrick came home more often to see his wife, and Rose smiled and kissed him as she called the telephone company and told them that she would be taking her maternity leave and would not be back until after the baby arrived. 

The telephone company took it well, and she didn’t know if she’s surprised by that fact, or if it’s the hormones talking. She did get a nice gift basket from the girls at work so she can’t say it’s all in vain. Patrick stayed with her most times too, as she laid down next to him in bed, her stomach getting in the way of him. 

“I’m hot,” she murmured, going to pull off her shirt, with Patrick helping her. 

She smiled and kissed him before settling in next to him, and him as close as she can, closing her eyes, and rubbing her stomach, feeling the little one kick a bit.   
  
“She has your legs,” Rose looked at him smiling. 

“She?” He chuckled. 

“She, Patrick, just a guess.” She sighed, burying into him. 

He smiles and laughs, feeling her kick. “Yes she does.” 

“She’s happy to have you home.” 

He nodded and kissed her head. “I’m happy I’m home too.” 

She smiled, as her breath hitched. “Oh.” She whimpers. 

“Darling? What’s wrong?”   
  
She shifted uncomfortably, “Nothing, it’s just Braxton-Hicks contractions, they apparently prepare,” she hissed softly, “your body for what real contractions feel like.” 

He nodded softly, seeing how much pain she was in before he kissed her head and buried his head in her pin curls, holding her close. She hummed softly, trying to get into a comfortable position before she gave up and started to read her pregnancy book, sighing softly, rubbing her stomach trying to get her to sleep. Soon enough, she stopped kicking and she calmed down a bit so that way Rose could sleep a little. 

And sleep she did. 

February 25th, 1937, she’s in their bedroom with her mom and husband, pushing their kid out into the world, gripping Patrick’s hand like its her lifeboat in a storming sea, and it’s so worth it when she hears her little boy cry. They name him Peter Jacob Hutchinson after their fathers, and it doesn’t take long for Patrick to cry, as well as Rose. 

Her mom left them to rest for a little bit, going to the hospital to fill out her paperwork. Rose was sweaty, breathing heavily and very, very tired, but it’s so, so worth it for her little boy. “He’s handsome,” she smiled. 

Patrick nodded, holding her close. “He is, darling. He really is.” 

A few weeks later, Rose stopped by the office, seeing the girls and letting them hold Peter, sighing softly as all the girls cooed over him. 

She smiled at her bosses and told them she would be back once she found someone who would be able to watch Peter during the day, her mom worked and so, she had no one to watch him. The bosses nodded and smiled and soon after, she was able to come back to work, as she was to find someone. 

6 months passed by, and Peter ended up passing away in his sleep. Rose was heartbroken, her baby was gone. All the girls at work sympathized with her, and she had Patrick, thank God. She could barely eat most days, and seeing a child or a woman in the family way would send her spiraling out of control. She slept in the rocking chair each night, and Patrick tried to get her to bed, but to be quite honest, she didn’t want to go back to bed. It just felt wrong. 

So, Patrick brought their mattress into Peter’s room one day, and set it down in the middle of the room, waking up Rose. “Hmm?” She asked. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just. I missed having you in bed, and I know you’re not going to leave the room anytime soon, I’m just creating a compromise,” he murmured.   
  
She smiled quickly, before getting out of the rocking chair, and holding him close. “You’re too good for me Patrick Hutchinson.”   
  
“And you’re much too sweet, Rose Hutchinson.” he sighed out, before laying down. 

She smiled and kissed him, before getting as close as she can and gripping his shirt as tight as she can, hoping she could keep him here, and safe. 

Turns out fate had other plans. 

It’s two years later, and Germany just invaded Poland. The US isn’t involved yet, but there’s rumors swirling, and Rose, the ever worrisome, kept track of everything. She knew what would happen if it came to the US. Every good military needs pilots, she’s seen the Luftwaffe on the news, so everyday, she prayed that it doesn’t happen. 

And then it did. Pearl Harbor was bombed and she couldn’t help but cry in the switchboard room with everyone else, for both the men who died, and for Patrick, who will likely get pulled into the war. 

So it’s only a matter of time when Patrick came home and dropped off a telegram into her hands. 

Patrick sat down, took her hands, then gave her telegram. 

“I can’t say no darling,” he murmured. 

She nodded, looking at the telegram. “I know, I know you can’t. It’s been a long time coming anyhow.” 

He nodded and sighed, before kissing her hand, “Come on, it’s almost my last night, let’s go out. Washington Platform?” 

She nodded solemnly, giving it back to him. “Washington Platform. I’ll get ready.” 

Rose went to her closet, taking a deep breath, trying to push down the tears in her eyes, before feeling her husband’s arms wrap around her. 

“I know this will be rough on both of us, but I promise you. I promise you. I’ll be back. I don’t have any other plans Rose.” 

She smiled and turned to kiss him hard, holding him close. “Patrick David Hutchinson, take me to bed.” she murmured, holding him close. 

And so he did. 

After the final time, Patrick rolled off of her, panting heavily. 

She smiled and kissed his cheek, sighing softly, holding his hand. 

“Rose Sarah Hutchinson, I'll love you till my dying day,” Patrick murmured, holding her close. 

“And I’ll love you Patrick.” She kissed his forehead, breathing softly. 

“Sleep, and then round 2?” He asked and Rose laughed a little. 

“Figure I’d get as much time with my wife before I go off.” He smiled. 

Her breath hitched and she started to cry, which sent Patrick’s hand running through her hair, “Oh Rose, I’ll return to you. I promise.” 

“You better, or there’ll be hell to pay Mister,” she sniffled. 

He laughed, kissed her and smiled, holding her close and fell asleep entangled with each other. 

On February 12th, 1942, she said goodbye to him. She kissed him inside the house, gave him a picture of her in her wedding dress, and his favorite scarf before kissing him again, then drove him to the train station. It’s only a matter of time before they call him away, and when they do, she cried hard, kisses him again before he goes onto the train and peaks out of a window, and started waving at her. 

“Bye my love,” Rose shouted. 

“Bye my darling Rose!” he smiled and blew her a kiss, which she caught in the palm of her hand. The train pulled away, with him waving until she couldn’t see him, and she sighed, wiping tears away. 

Rose thanked God almost everyday for the phone company. Most of the girls are either single, or they have a boyfriend. Rose is one of the girls thats been married for a while, now 7, almost 8 years. But everyone still gets the same deal. If you find out your relative, boyfriend, fiancé, or in Rose’s and a few other girls case, husband, is either injured, dead or missing, you get a week off with half pay to either arrange the funeral or get to the hospital to see him. Which was something a lot of companies didn’t do. 

And Holly’s the one who takes it first. 

It almost crushed Rose to see Holly break down over her fiancé, the poor girl. She’s just 20 years old, she shouldn’t have to break down over the fact that her fiancé was missing. They let her off for a week for her to recoup, but it’s obvious that Holly still isn’t okay, so Rose takes her shifts sometimes when she can. There’s a blackout where she lives, so sometimes she asks one of the supervisors to drive her home when she works late or to pick her up if she works the swing shift, but over all, the phone company isn’t that bad. 

Especially when she signed up as a WAC. She saw the signs, stopped in one of the recruitment rooms, got a few pamphlets and wrote to Patrick about it, stating she would try to stay here for logistic purposes, but would be able to earn a bit more money. 

Patrick wrote back agreeing, so she signed up, and got placed in DC, and was now a WAC working the switchboard in DC. The girls there are nice, and they’re from all over the US.

They’re a great group of girls to distract her from Patrick. She wrote him letters once a week, and she smiled when she sees a letter from him. She always looked to her blue star flag, then back to the letter of the moment. She writes her response, maybe tells a funny anecdote about what happened that week. She then put on his favorite lipstick, a soft red, kisses the paper and signed it with a “Love, Rose” and sent it through V-Mail. 

Usually, they’re pretty good writers. You don’t get through almost 15 years of knowing each other by forgetting to send each other mail. So when Rose hadn’t heard from him in 2 weeks, she started to get a little restless and a few people could tell. Barbara made her cookies, which made her smile, and Edith took her to the movies, “just to get her mind off of things”. So, when she got a letter, she feels a bit nervous about opening it. 

Turns out, he’s coming home for a furlough, just in time for their 8th wedding anniversary, and is very excited to see her. 

She smiled and sighed softly. “Thank God.” She murmured, looking at the paper, before collecting her things and going to the Adjunct General’s Office. This was something she wanted time off for, and well. She was going to get it. Turns out, they were pretty lenient with furlough, they just had her work swing shifts. Which was fine by her, she could survive with that. Patrick would understand.

She was a bit nervous, she wouldn’t lie. This was her first time seeing her husband since a few months ago. And even when he was a regular pilot, she would at least see him once a month, not all drawn out like this. She had gained a little weight, and she had to get glasses, but otherwise, she was Rose Hutchinson. 

So when Patrick came back, looking around for her, she smiled, laughed, and then waved to him, before she went and kissed him softly. 

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” he smiled, kissing her again. 

She smiled at him, adjusting her glasses. “How are you?” 

“Good, just exhausted. I’ll be good for a good’s night sleep.”   
  
She smiled and kissed him again before picking up his bag. “Let’s go to the hotel, darling.” 

He laughed and smiled at her, kissing her sweetly. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” She smiled. 

They made their way to the hotel, with Rose driving and glancing over at him every so often. He smiles and takes her hand as it lays on the gear shift, kissing it softly. 

She blushes, before getting to his hotel that he rented out a room in. He stands up and takes her hand as he checks in and she kissed him once they were done. 

“Couldn’t wait darling?” He chuckled. 

“I wanted to do that since the train station.” 

He nodded. smiling, “Fair enough darling. Why don’t we head on up and have some fun?” He winked. 

She blushed and nodded, leading him up to their hotel room, holding him close to her. 

He unlocked the door, let her in, before dropping off his bag at the door. He shut it before backing her up against the wall and kissing her. 

She sighed before kissing him back, letting him touch her wherever. One hand on her thigh, one hand wrapped around her waist, and Rose’s hand around his neck and one crawling down his back. 

“It’s so funny,” he murmured, panting in her ear, like if that just doesn’t wind her up. “All the men would go to bars to try and find a pretty woman to spend the night with, and yet, I was in my tent, trying to think of a way to surprise you with me coming home.” 

She smiled at that and thanks God for keeping him safe, before kissing him again. “Bed?”   
  
“Bed,” he nodded. 

After a few hours of fun, Rose looked at the time, almost 2:30, she should probably get ready for work now. “I’m on the swing shift. I’m heading off to work. Be good, don’t burn down the place okay?”   
  
He nodded and kissed her. “How long?” he whined.   
  
“I’ll be back around midnight. You’ll survive Mister.”   
  
He smiled and nodded as she gets up, going to get ready, putting her hair up into a nice and neat bun. 

She smiled and gets dressed in her uniform, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. Patrick was here, and when he saw her, he practically worshipped her, so why was she all of a sudden feeling so self-conscious now? She sighs, picking out her uniform, feeling his arms around her. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful Rose.” He murmured before stumbling back covering his mouth as Rose jolts. 

“Did you just cuss?” She turned to him. 

He blushed and nodded, still covering his mouth.   
  
She smiled, “What other words have you learned?”   
  
“Why don’t you go to work, and I’ll tell you later?” he said, walking towards her. 

She smiled, feeling him nip at her shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I still have to go to work though, so back to bed with you Mister.” 

He pouted before going, and she got ready, before she kissed him goodbye. 

She smiled going into her shift and hummed going starting up the switchboard. Barbara came in next, since she was the other person on the swing shift. 

“So how’s Patrick?” Barbara smiled. 

“He’s good. I’m just glad to have him back, just for a little bit.” Rose smiled, fingering her wedding ring. 

They worked in almost complete silence the entire time. It was almost 11:30 when Barbara said, “I miss him Rose.” 

Rose looked up at her. “Who?”   
  
She looked down. “Right, we’ve been on opposite shifts, but I have a boyfriend now. His name is Henry, he’s kind and sweet, and we met at the USO station at the train station and-” she started sniffling, which caused Rose to open her arms and hug Barbara. It’s almost sweet how all the girls consider her as a big sister. 

She ran her hand through Barbara’s brown locks, trying to calm her down. 

“Sorry, just nervous,” Barbara sighed. 

“We all are,” Rose smiled and squeezed her hand as they return to the switchboard. 

The shift ended, and Rose is exhausted, so when she sees that Patrick is up and had cooked her food, it takes her a bit to not jump him right then and there. But soon enough, they had finished eating a ham sandwich, not much, but better than cafeteria food, and were sitting on the couch, telling each other things they couldn’t say in the letters, when Rose makes a decision. 

“Patrick?”

“Hmm?”   
  
“Do, do you want to maybe move? My mom lives in our house, now. We could give it to her and get one with our own money?” 

He sighed, “Rose…” 

She sighed. “Just, just forget it. Sorry I even brought it up.” She murmurs. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to move, I just want to wait until after the war.” 

She nodded softly and kissed him, before holding him close. 

They had lots of fun that week. Patrick had ended up getting her a French lace handkerchief, and Rose got him a new scarf since his old one was all torn up. He smiled and kissed her softly when they got back to the train station, and Rose made sure to tuck his scarf tight, just to make sure that he was going to be okay for the time being. She kissed him on the cheek, put him on the train, and waved goodbye, knowing that he would send her letters and such. 

That’s how it was for almost two years. He would get as close to their anniversary off as possible, come home for it, and then get sent onto the train, while Rose would do her duty as a WAC. 

So that’s maybe why on June 10th, 1944, when her supervisor called her, she was so confused. She wasn’t going anywhere, and as far as she knew, there wasn’t an air raid scheduled for today, although that could change. The nasty buggers who liked to test the system, weren’t very good about letting people know about when they would test the Air Raid system. 

So she went with her, before seeing the two people in Class A’s. She took in their uniforms, so they obviously were Lieutenants, who worked at the-

Oh God. 

She quickly blinked back tears as one of them rubbed her arm, then gave her the telegram, she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. 

She ripped it open as soon as they left, her supervisor’s arm on her shoulder, and let a cry of anguish. 

DEAR PRIVATE ROSE HUTCHINSON: 

WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR HUSBAND, SERGEANT PATRICK D. HUTCHINSON HAS BEEN KILLED IN ACTION IN FRANCE ON JUNE 6TH, 1944. LETTER TO FOLLOW. 

ADJUNCT GENERAL ULIO 

She dropped to her knees, screamed and cried, and her supervisor sat down next to her, took her hand and said let it all out, she just did. She screamed and cried and cursed God for taking him away from her, and stated that she needed to go back home to Cincinnati. Her supervisor nodded, and pulled a few strings and she was back in Cincinnati, holding her mom at the train station and sobbing in her arms. 

“Oh Rose,” her mom murmured, running a hand through her hair. 

“I want him back. I need him back,” she sobbed out. 

“I know. I know honey,” she kissed her head, before letting her sob. 

The next few days were a blur, but she did remember a few things. The neighbors letting her come over for food, and the WACS of Cincinnati making her food and dropping it off for her, with a sympathy card and a hug.

The funeral was on the hottest day of the year so far, without a cloud in the sky. Seemed awfully ironic to her, but what could she do. She couldn’t control the weather, nor could she control- 

She started crying, and when Taps was played, she buried her head into her mom’s shoulder and started shaking, trying to catch her breath. They couldn’t find the body, it blew up with the plane, but even still, she was a mess. The picture that was up there is of him on their wedding day, with her looking into his eyes like he was a shining light. Because he was. She got the flag, a whole mess when that happens, and sniffled when she sits back down, holding it close to her, with her mom squeezing her hand. 

The funeral ended and it’s just her at the gravesite. She touches the plaque, holding the flag close to her chest, before saying. “I wish you were here with me love.” 

She had gotten back from her trip and for her was a package containing his last things. She sniffled, before setting them aside. 

She opened the package a few days afterwards, in her bunk. Inside was the letter from him and his CO, and a few other things. His paperback, “The Great Gatsby”, a few sketches, and a few little gifts for her, she guessed. A nice necklace, and a nice pen. She picked up the book and started reading it, taking in the words that were written. 

Daisy and Jordan having fun on the couch, Nick meeting Gatsby, the car accident, and Gatsby dying, which is where she was at right now. After finishing, she holds “The Great Gatsby” close to her and sniffles, before putting it all away in her locker and curling up crying. 

On Monday, she got dressed in her uniform, and pinned her American flag badge on. She took her bag, looking at herself in the mirror. She had lost a bit of weight, she couldn’t eat anything, but she wasn’t nervous about that. It was the fact that she knew the moment that she stepped out the door, she would be known as a widow. She takes a deep breath, before walking out the door, calmly, and coolly, walking to her destination. 

When she reaches her destination, she takes a moment to herself before going in, heading into the telephone room, looking at all the girls, who nodded when she took her place and started connecting calls with each other. She then sighs softly, working the day away before going back home. 

It took her almost a week to read the CO’s letter. It’s not that she had so much to do, she was just mentally unprepared for it. In the letter, his CO, Colonel Grant, states that her husband was shooting down the enemy in France, when someone shot him down. He also mentions that her husband was a good man, always taking care of the younger ones and that he would always decline going to the bar because he had a wife and he was going to be faithful. 

Rose puts the letter down and starts crying softly. Of course he would. She decides then to read her husband’s letter. She was already in such a state that she would be fine. She took a deep breath and opened it, gulping down the bile slowly rising in her throat before reading it, hands shaking while she chokes back a sob, and that does no good, so she just goes for full on sobbing. 

She cried for a while before letting herself read the letter. 

“My darling Rose,

If this letter gets to you, I’m gone. I’m sorry. I should have been better prepared, but you know how life takes you many many different ways. I knew it when I met you at the orphanage, and you changed my life forever. I’ll always love you Rose, promise. Couldn’t drive me away if you tried. I love you Rose. The apartment and the furniture is all yours, but don’t spend your life cooped up there Rose. I know you want to get out of Cincinnati, and let yourself do that, you’re allowed too. I give you my permission. 

I love you very, very much, and you’re always in my heart. 

Love, 

Patrick” 

She shakily wipes her eyes and kisses the letter. “Oh Patrick,” she murmurs shakily, holding the letter close to her. 

It’s a few months later, on a Monday, when her boss asks for her. She nods and gets up, and she walks into a room with a few military personnel. She nods at them, before sitting down. 

“Private Hutchinson?” one of the guys asks. 

“It’s actually Private Roberts. My um. Husband died in the war.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss. We had a Private Hutchinson in the notes, Private Roberts.” 

She nods. “It’s fine. Anyways.” 

“Anyways, Private Roberts. As you may have known, the war’s coming slowly to an end.”

She nods. “Of course.” 

They explain to her about how her husband had been saved by some of the SSR crew, before he had died. Patrick had talked about his wife and how she was a WAC, and was able to keep a good amount of secrets and how loyal and trustworthy she was, and informally recommended her for the SSR.

“So you want me to join?” 

They nod, and a gruff man, a Colonel Phillips, says. “Yes Private. You would be a switchboard operator and a cover agent. You would know what’s going on, but not what’s actually going on.” 

She nods, “I understand. I would have to think about it.”

Her boss nods. “Of course. Men?” 

Colonel Phillips nods, “Course, you have until Friday to let your boss know.” 

She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t talk about this to anyone right?” 

Colonel Phillips nods. “You can tell them about a new job, but that’s it.” 

Rose stands and nods. “You’ll have my answer by Friday.”   
  
Phillips nods, “I expect it Private Roberts.” 

“You’ll have it sir,” she shakes his hand and smiles at him. 

They nod and leave, and Rose goes back to her switchboard, trying to think of what to say. She did want to leave. It was too much to just to stay here. She couldn’t go anywhere without seeing Patrick in the way that a couple smiles, in the waitress’s eyes, in a way that a guy laughs. So she nods and takes the job. 

She packs up her things, putting the flag and the photos of Patrick up top, sells their place, takes a few of his favorite shirts, his aftershave, and his favorite books, before packing it into two suitcases and setting off for New York. 

She finds a nice place with two other girls, which makes her happy. It’s expensive living here, and she’s happy to have the cost coming down. She still clips her food rations and makes sure her dresses are knee length, before coming to work. It’s just her for right now, but she doesn’t mind. She likes having the switchboard to herself. And the guys are nice. There’s Dooley, who’s the Chief. He’s nice, in the kinda paternal way. She sees him as he goes in and out, with new people almost every day. 

When V-E Day happens, everyone gets the day off, and Rose can’t stop crying that day. She goes out to Times Square, dances with a soldier when someone plays “In the Mood” and when “Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer” plays, she excuses herself to cry in an ally. But she has fun, goes home that night and dreams of Patrick. 

Dooley makes sure her request to have June 10th off gets out and done. She doesn’t tell him why, and he doesn’t ask. She’s somehow sure he knows, but he doesn’t say anything if he does. Just says that’s fine, she’s been approved. She nods, closes the door, and goes home for the day. 

June 10th arrives, and she slowly rolls out of bed. She gets her purse, her favorite picture of Patrick, carefully stored with her folded flag, and goes to Coney Island, sitting down at a bench on the dock, holding the picture in her hand. 

“Well Patrick, we made it. Somewhat. I’m guessing you’ve already seen the beach. It’s beautiful isn’t it? Makes me think of when we had those picnics on the lakeside of the Ohio River.” She sighs, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone could see her. 

There was someone on a bench a bit down, a man with crutches and dark hair, looking over the Atlantic. She nods and continues. “It’s been weird not having you here. I’ve been self-sufficient, mostly. Just needed to move in with two people because the rent’s so high here, that I can’t afford it on my own. Not even with my salary. I just wish you were here Patrick. I really, just.” She sniffles, trying not to cry, getting out her handkerchief and covering her face, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

She eventually gets herself calmed down, and sighs softly. “I think you would like it here. It’s nice. Not that bad of a winter. The apartment I have has heating in it, which is really nice,” she laughs before sighing. “I miss you Patrick. I always will.” 

She gets up, sighing, before kissing her photo and going home for the day. 

The next day, there’s a woman that needs to be let in. Peggy Carter’s her name, and if rumors were to be true, she was Captain America’s sweetheart. After her shift is over, Peggy walks out in tears and Rose meets her. 

“Miss Carter? Right?” She asks. 

“You’re Rose? The cover agent?” She says, wiping tears away. 

She nods, reverting into her big sister role. Peggy couldn’t be more than 25. And to go through so much… “I am. I get out now, if you wanna go for dinner?” 

She nods. “That sounds good.” 

She nods and smiles, before going with her. “Have been to the L&L? Right by here, real nice.” 

She shakes her head, and well. It’s settled. To the L&L they go. Turns out it was Peggy’s second day in America, and she has no one here. And well, Rose was never one to turn down a friend in need. She helps her find an apartment with a sister of one of her roommates, and takes her shopping for some clothes to get her through the week. 

It’s 2 weeks later when she meets Jack Thompson and Ray Krzeminski and she has never wanted to punch someone more. They call her doll and flirt with her and she has half a mind to punch them until she realizes the pay is too good. So she grins and bears it. 

And then, a month after she meets Thompson and Krzeminski, she meets Sousa. A refreshing air from the stink of Thompson and Krzeminski, he actually makes a point to introduce himself to her as he walks in and talks to her when he’s not that busy. 

She likes him. He’s good looking, nice and patient. But she can’t have him as he’s already been claimed, if those two don’t know it already. Peggy’s secret smiles and Sousa’s playfulness towards Peggy leave little to the imagination of who the other likes. 

So she moves on, like in the Great Gatsby. She reads it in her spare time. And the last line always stuck with her. “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”. She wasn’t Daisy or Jordan or Myrtle, she was Rose, but she was beautiful and deserving of love, even if love has passed her by in a click-step and an English accent. 

So when the Stark case breaks, she’s stunned speechless. She’s never seen Daniel this angry in her life, and Thompson looks resigned. And Peggy, well. She looks, downtrodden. Like she has finally won the respect of these men and lost it. 

So it was surprising when she heard the sound of what sounded like a bomb and glass breaking. All the girls looked up and then at her, and she nodded. “Macy, take my place. No one comes in, unless they show you their SSR ID.” She grabs her gun, and heads towards the door. 

Macy nods and scoots over, taking up her side and letting her through. “Okay Rose.” 

She steps through the elevator, and goes towards the bullpen. That’s probably where it was right? She points her gun through the door, and then steps in once she knows it’s clear.   
  
“What the hell?” she murmurs, looking at the room, destroyed into little bits. 

“It’s Chief,” Thompson says, quickly taping off the scene. 

She nods, “He’s gone?”   
  
He nods, “Yeah. He’s gone.”   
  
She nods softly. Somehow everyone she likes, dies. “Is there anything I can do?”   
  
He shakes his head, “Just tell the girls downstairs.”   
  
She nods and goes back down, taking a deep breath and telling the girls, passing out tissues, as Daniel walks in. “Miss Roberts?”   
  
“Oh Agent Sousa, let me let you in,” She says, letting him in. 

He looks at her weirdly, and then goes in. 

She sighs and rubs her head, before reflecting on everything. Seems like everyone around her was hurt or killed and she couldn’t take it. At least she had the girls at work. If they were killed, she didn’t know what she’d do. 

So when someone taps her, she pulls out her gun and aims it at Howard Stark and Edwin Jarvis.   
  
“If you two are here for anything other than surrender...”   
  
“Yes Miss, we are here to surrender.” Howard nods.   
  
She sighs and lets them in, before putting back the gun. 

She wasn’t going to be on the swing shift, but Age- Chief Thompson had asked her to stay because of what might happen over the next few hours, and he said he would pay her well. So she stayed. 

She stayed for the phone call from the movie theater, Thompson being a complete idiot, and when Sousa, Thompson and Peggy get back from the airport with Thompson ratting out Sousa, with Stark and Jarvis in tow. 

It’s a few weeks later when she was called back into the SSR Office. Not the first time since she started and certainly not the last. She heads up the elevator and into the office, prepping herself for whatever comes her way. 

Thompson motions her to come in to his office, and Daniel’s there as well. This was interesting. She sits down in a chair, folding her hands in her lap as Thompson starts talking.   
  
“So, in a few hours, I’m going to announce that Daniel here, is the Chief of SSR LA,” Thompson says, somewhat resigned. 

She nods and grins at Daniel. “Congratulations Chief Sousa.”   
  
“Thank you,” He smiles. 

“And considering your resume, Miss Roberts, we would like to offer you a position in LA as well.” Thompson nods at her. 

“A-a position in LA?” She looks at them. 

“Yes, would run the cover operation there. I believe it’s supposed to be an agency of some type?” He looks at Sousa.

“Auerbach Theatrical Agency,” Daniel nods. 

Rose nods, looking down. “I would have to think about it, can I tell you on Friday?”   
  
Thompson nods, “Of course. Just let Daniel or I know by then. That’s all Miss Roberts.”   
  
“Thank you Chiefs,” she grins, taking her time coming out of the office. 

Peggy looked at her weirdly, but she knew how all hell would break loose. She knows that Peggy really really really likes him, and he asked her out once, after the entire Stark fiasco, but she said, “another time” because she had to meet a friend. Which was true. She sighs, before sitting back down at her station.

California. That’s part of the country she would like to visit. And no more shoveling snow, just had to deal with the heat. And not having to deal with any of the telephone girl drama. 

So she takes the deal, packs up her stuff, and goes with Chief Sousa. They stop off in Chicago, then they’re in LA. She smiles, once she gets in the car, Chief Sousa drives them to Auerbach Theatrical Agency and she sets her things down.   
  
“Rose?”   
  
“Hmm?”   
  
“Did you ever get a house?”   
  
“Oh! I did, yes, just came a day early so I can’t move in just yet.”   
  
He nods. “Gotcha. I did as well.”   
  
She chuckles softly. “So, sleeping in the office?”   
  
“Guess that’s our plan, after we get this space all set up.”   
  
She nods and starts working on the filing cabinets, before helping Chief Sousa with some higher up things, since he can’t climb ladders, before working on her own desk, seeing Chief come down.   
  
“Chief Sousa,” she nods, seeing him beam at those words. 

“Here, Rose I can help you unpack a bit, before we go get lunch.”   
  
She nods, letting him help her unpack, before he takes out her photo of Patrick.   
  
“Hey Rose?” he asks gently.   
  
“Yes Daniel?”   
  
He shows her the picture of her and him on their wedding day and Rose’s breath hitches in her throat.   
  
She nods, taking a deep breath. “That, was my husband. Patrick. We grew up in Cincinnati together. He was a pilot in the war, got shot down.”   
  
“Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry, I di-” 

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she nods, taking the photo and setting it in her desk drawer.   
  
“What was he like?” he asks tentatively, and Rose has to stop for a second. 

“He was really nice. We never really fought, we both grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in Cincinnati, so we ended up agreeing because we didn’t know what would happen next. He had a really nice smile, reminds me of the Great Gatsby quote; ‘It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it,” she says softly. 

He nods. “I see. How about we go out, and you can tell me more about you and your war service, and I’ll tell you about my childhood?” 

“That sounds good, Daniel,” she takes the picture before deciding to put it in her desk drawer. It’s been a while since she’s thought of him. And even though she misses him sometimes, she’s moved on. She grabs her bag and goes with Daniel, stepping into a new life without him. 


End file.
